


Two Double Beds

by shamusandstone (theleaveswant)



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: F/F, First Time, Rivalry, Road Trips, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-12
Updated: 2011-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-24 13:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleaveswant/pseuds/shamusandstone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Driving cross-country goes much smoother after Noah innocently and exasperatedly forces Elle and Claire to share a bed (part one from Noah's perspective, part two from Claire's)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Noah

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for some kind of QUILTBAG commentfic spree (did I host it? did someone else?) for the prompt (I don't recall who left it, I just found the fic in a word file as I was cleaning up old unposted works) "Claire/Elle- Maybe something with them trying to keep quiet while fooling around because they don't want Bennet to overhear?"

Noah smiled at the hotel clerk and asked for a room with two double beds.

He hadn't smiled yesterday when he asked for the same thing. Yesterday it had seemed like the least of few evils. The first eight hours of this road trip, necessitated by Elle's refusal to board another airplane ever, ever again, had given him a fresh perspective on hell. Hell, he'd decided, was being trapped in a car with two girls who'd never had the opportunity to enjoy the family road trip experience nor learn proper long-haul etiquette. He'd had to pull the car over two hours in to make them switch seats; Elle in the back right kept shocking Claire around the passenger side headrest. Unfortunately this didn't entirely solve the problem, as Elle proceeded to accuse Claire periodically of stepping on her seatbelt. As much as Noah would have liked to believe his daughter's objections that she was doing no such thing, he knew that taking her side, whether justified or not, would only sour relations further.

They were over a hundred miles short of the distance he'd hoped to cover when he pulled into the motel lot the first night, but he'd run out of patience. He could have asked one of them to take a turn while he rested his eyes, but he didn't trust either one not to crash the car if the other tried to pick a fight.

He made it all the way to the front desk before realizing he couldn't give either girl her own room. He trusted neither not to run off in the night if left unsupervised, and even without that risk he feared the consequences, whether they perceived it as surveillance or favoritism, if he shared with one and not the other. That meant one room for the three of them. He asked about sofas or cots, but was told that, unfortunately, neither was available at the moment. Noah sighed and handed over his credit card, too weary to seek out another hotel. He told himself that sharing a bed would be good for the girls.

Apparently, he was right.

Noah had tried to stay alert in case he had to stop them from killing each other in the night, but to his chagrin went out like a light as soon as he sank into the pillow-top mattress. His vigilance proved unnecessary, as not only were Claire and Elle both alive when he woke, they were already up, drinking coffee in their pajamas and giggling over a Bruce Lee movie on the room's absurdly large TV screen.

Unnerved by their evident amusement over his return to consciousness and fearful of walking into a prank, Noah took his time getting out of bed. There was nothing obscene drawn on his face, though, and his clothes didn't appear to be booby-trapped, so he waited while they dressed. Elle and Claire kept smiling through their continental breakfast, and Claire even helped Elle mop up when she spilled orange juice in her lap. If this was a conspiracy, an act staged for his benefit, they were taking it exceptionally far.

Elle offered to drive after they paused for lunch and Noah reluctantly let her, dozing off again in the back seat with his head on the window. He stirred in his sleep at the feeling of acceleration, and could have sworn he saw Claire leaning across the centre console with her hand in Elle's lap, mouth on her throat, her eyes flicking back to him He thought he heard moaning interrupted by a whispered “oh shit”, but the car slowed down and he drifted off again.

They made good time that day, reaching their planned stopping point without incident and with daylight to spare, and Noah left the girls in the car while he went to check in. Maybe this trip wouldn't be such a disaster after all.


	2. Claire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driving cross-country goes much smoother after Noah innocently and exasperatedly forces Elle and Claire to share a bed (part one from Noah's perspective, part two from Claire's)

Claire turned around in her seat to glare at Elle, smoothing a hand over the back of her head.

“Quit it,” she said.

“Quit what?”

“Shocking me, and don't say you're not because you totally are.”

Elle looked out the window. Claire held the glare for another minute. No sooner did she turn her face forward again than she was bent over forward, clutching her knees. “Dad!”

“Elle,” Noah said, with a warning glance at the orphan in the rear view mirror, who returned a look of exaggerated demureness, hands folded in lap.

“I swear I didn't do anything,” Elle said, but when Noah's eyes reverted to the road ahead she grinned at Claire, who'd sat up and twisted to face her again. She flashed a red-stained tongue and the younger girl sneered.

“Act your age, not your shoe size.”

They managed another twenty minutes before Claire roared again, and Noah pulled onto the shoulder and commanded them to switch seats. Claire obediently climbed out, kicking gravel into the desert scrub as she waited for Elle to take her place. Shotgun wasn't that great a seat anyway, she thought as she slouched into the back. Definitely not worth the fuss.

She slammed the door and Elle whined, “Noah, Claire's standing on my seatbelt.”

“I am not,” Claire said reflexively, before realizing that her foot was, in fact, pressing against the anchor of the belt. She quickly moved it away but did not apologize. She concentrated on the passing scenery, trying to ignore the others, until she noticed Elle was incrementally moving her seat back into Claire's foot well. “Dad, she's trying to crush me.”

“I doubt that.”

“She's moving her seat back.”

“Elle, leave your seat where it is; Claire, don't exaggerate.”

Another ten minutes, another notch reclined, and Claire stomped, hard and deliberate, on Elle's seatbelt.   
The pattern repeated with variations until sundown, when Noah pulled into the parking lot of the first motel with access on his side of the highway. “My daughter and my niece,” he explained to the desk clerk, leading the girls and their overnight bags to their shared room.

Claire scowled at the neatly made bed. “Which side do you want?” she asked. “Window?”

“Actually, I'd rather sleep next to Noah.”

“Don't hit on my dad, that's gross!”

“It's Claire's bed or the floor, Elle, your choice.”

Claire kept up her glare for nearly an hour while they took turns changing and washing up, relaxing her face only while she was alone in the bathroom. No one spoke again until they were all tucked in and Noah reached to switch off his bedside lamp. “Goodnight Dad,” Claire said.

“Goodnight Clairebear,” he answered, and then after a pause, “goodnight Elle.”

“'Night, Glasses. Cheerleader.”

Claire did her best to sleep but kept getting distracted by Elle's squirming. Every toss and turn narrowed the gap between them until Claire could feel the heat from her body, almost but not quite touching. “Move over,” she whispered, “you're on my side of the bed.”

“I don't see your name on it.”

“My body's on it, you--” Claire broke off at the rustle of sheets in the other bed, but Noah was just rolling over. She stifled a snort of laughter when he started to snore.

“That's attractive,” Elle murmured.

Claire rolled over to glare at Elle some more. “I told you to stop perving on my father.”

“Give it a rest,” Elle said, looking genuinely wounded. “I promise you, Pom-pom, it's not your dad I'm interested in.”

They were face to face now, pressed together on one half of the bed.

“You're still on my side,” Claire breathed.

“What are you going to do about it?” Her eyes were wide, pupils huge in the dim light through the blinds.

Claire licked her lips.

“He's a heavy sleeper, right?”

“I guess. I can't remember the last time I actually slept in the same room as him. Why?”

Elle reached up, tentatively caressing the side of Claire's face. “I just don't want him to wake up and catch me kissing his daughter.”

“Oh,” Claire said. Her eyes flickered sideways and down to Elle's thumb, cool and blurry on her cheek. “I think I can kiss quietly if you can.”

Elle smiled, but it was Claire who leaned in first.


End file.
